Muggle Devices
by The Curly Flea
Summary: A rather peculiar package finds its way into the hands of one Draco Malfoy. Apparently, there are some muggles that wizards will never triump against.


**MUGGLE DEVICES**

* * *

'Bloody Gryffindors. Bloody Quidditch.' Draco winced as his shoulder twinged painfully. 'Bloody Weasleys.'

Draco had been incessantly pacing the length of the table for little under an hour, dwelling upon the events from that very afternoon. He allowed a brief pause to coldly glare at a nosy painting, before putting a hand to his forehead, scanning the room. 'Bloody, stupid, Scar-'

He was cut off, as his attention was averted to the centre of the table, which no longer remained clear and empty.

* * *

"Crabbe, Goyle. Is this yours?"

The flickering firelight luminated a levitating brown package, which hung only inches from the tip of a dark, smooth wand. It was plain, unmarked - only a plain piece of string adorned the item. Observation gave little away about the owner of the piece, let alone the mystery contained within.

Quirking an eyebrow at the pair seated behind him, Draco gestured with impatience towards his puzzle. He remained unsatisfied as they shook their heads at him dumbly. The young heir frowned and cautiously brought the package to his hand, before feeling the smoothness of the paper with his fingertips. He turned to face the fire. 'Odd,' Draco thought disdainfully. 'It certainly lacks the flair of the Slytherin house.'

The Slytherin common room was quiet, Draco observed. Only he and a couple of fifth year peers remained awake in the stillness of the night. The older years were preparing for N.E.W.T examinations, he presumed.

Sighing, Draco flicked his wand at the inoffensive package. A subtle incantation revealed no threatening curses or hexes bound into the item, and so the Slytherin allowed it to drop gracefully into his awaiting hand. Without so much as a parting nod, Draco left the solace of the common room for the privacy of his rooms.

The temperature dipped as he reached the fifth year corridor. Draco's grip on the package increased only slightly as his pace sped up, shoes clicking and resounding in the silence of the midnight air. 'One,' Draco counted the doors on his left as they passed. They were tall and eerie in the unnatural darkness underneath the castle. 'Two,' he glanced at his hands – the wand gripped in one and the package grasped in the other – before looking up at the door approaching him. He pushed himself a little faster, retaining the cool Malfoy composure about himself. 'Three.' It suddenly loomed over him, solid and dark in colour. Draco slowed his walking, yet did not hesitate before pushing through his carefully placed defensive wards. He spared a moment for his pride upon closing the door. 'Father taught me those.'

Satisfaction burst in his chest as he reinforced the daily protective spells – it appeared that one of them had been activated at some point during the day. Draco focused, pinpointing the particular spell.

A smirk grew as he recognised the magical signature. 'Oh, Blaise,' he walked away from the door and threw himself onto his bed, like a proud cat with a kill, 'I warned you. You never listen.' He looked forward with glee to witnessing the change in his peer's psychological well-being come morning.

Without more than a whisper, Draco quickly conjured up a flame in his awaiting fireplace, warming the chilled room. His package lay next to him upon the plush bed, taunting the blonde with its obscurity. Draco arched his brow at the item.

With little effort, he shifted himself up towards the grand headstand of his bed, stretching his legs out in front of him languidly. 'I have a potions essay to do,' he thought absently. He looked the package once over before resigning himself to his curiosity. 'It can wait.'

"_Accio."_

It landed in his palm with minimal aural disturbance. It was of moderate weight, and Draco felt the smooth surfaces run underneath his touch. It was a thin package, and given the oddly places vertices, Draco could only guess that it consisted of more than one item.

A tempted finger plucked at the taught string absent-mindedly. The crisp paper crinkled as it was turned once, twice, allowing the young boy to notice the means by which it was sealed.

'What – is this muggle?'

It was sealed by no magical spells – Draco had already determined that. It was bound by strips of a shiny static material instead. His finger dragged along them, picking at the steadily peeling sides.

Draco sneered. If it was muggle, what harm could it do it him? Of course, the fact his interest was piqued by a _muggle _object above anything else was quite disturbing. 'Father…' Draco sighed, dropping the package onto his bed and crossing his legs, breathing deeply. He focused his gaze on the package, before rolling his eyes and airily flicking his wand.

"_Abscindo."_

Immediately the strips split and the brown packaging loosened, allowing Draco to slide a cautious finger under the open seal. The paper pulled back accordingly and spilled forth a few items.

Draco frowned.

"Who on earth is Rebecca Black?"

* * *

The Great Hall was bustling the next morning after the events of the Quidditch match the previous afternoon. Few pupils were vacant from their seats, and gossip flew through air like the morning post.

As it was a Saturday, Harry and Ron lumbered in rather late, both grumbling to themselves. Hermione walked briskly in front of them, scowling at the Head Table, which played host to a rather offensive, plump, pink _thing._ Eyeing the bitterly sweetened beast, the trio slunk into their usual seats at the Gryffindor table, glancing at each other hesitantly.

"Well," Ron started, "it could be worse." Harry and Hermione looked at him incredulously. Ron shrugged. "I mean, at least we won the match. Imagine if all that had happened, _and _Slytherin had won the bloody game."

Hermione frowned. "Ron, Gryffindor winning the game was the whole reason for the 'muggle duel' between Malfoy and Harry. If Slytherin had won, I hardly think Harry would have retaliated in such a fashion. Would you, Harry?"

Harry glanced up from his Pumpkin Juice and shrugged noncommittally.

Hermione sighed, before delving through her bag. Ron and Harry shared a look before grinning slightly. "You've got to admit though mate, it was quite a sight. Watching you two trying to kill him in the middle of the pitch. Not saying it was worth it, but still, you know."

"Well," Harry sat up slightly, "I just hope he's feeling it this morning. I know George was getting quite enthusiastic about it all." Ron smirked and picked up a piece of toast.

It was halfway to his mouth when he glanced up at the doors of the Great Hall, eyes narrowing. "And speak of the ferret." Ron nodded in the blonde's direction, and Harry turned to watch his entrance. He frowned briefly at the brisk pace of the boy, and the slightly paler than usual complexion. Harry noticed that Hermione was watching him too.

"Harry, is he holding something?" Harry looked at a torn package in Malfoy's hand and shrugged.

"Looks like it. I dunno, maybe it's from his parents."

Hermione squinted, trying to decipher what was in the package. "Well, whatever it is, Malfoy's certainly worked up about it." She turned back to face the table, Harry following suit. "On to other matters – I've been looking at the schedule for DA. I can set the next date for this Tue-"

"_It's freakin' cursed!"_

Hermione paused in her speech, spinning around to observe the commotion behind her. Malfoy looked panicked, hands now empty and one resting on his brow.

"_I swear on my life, that thing is cursed! Bloody words – can't get them out of my head for two seconds! Friday?! It's not freakin' Friday! It's Saturday! Merlin, Pansy, help me!" _

The trio could just make out the hushed whispering of Pansy from their position, and the frantic looks of the not-so composed Slytherins around the Great Hall.

"_Lost it? Lost it?! I've not lost it! That-that thing has lost it! All bloody night! Howling, couldn't shut it up for all the silencing charms in Hogwarts! Lord!"_

Pansy swiftly stood and gestured and Crabbe and Goyle to follow. Grabbing Draco by the arm, she quickly proceeded to drag the dishevelled boy from the room, a scowl covering her features.

Silence followed them, as did the stares of all the occupants of the Great Hall. They could hear the indignant cries of Malfoy as he was pulled away – "_Oh, Merlin, it's the only thing I can think about! What is happening to me?!"_

A hush reigned before the curiosity of the students got the better of them. Giggles and whispers and loud conversations erupted throughout the room, much to the amusement of the majority of the staff.

"Bloody Hell," Ron whispered, his mouth full. Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, much like a goldfish, before looking at Harry.

The Boy-Who-Lived was staring at the entrance to the Great Hall with a rather befuddled expression.

"What just happened?" Ron looked between his speechless friends. Resigning to their silence, he shrugged. "Maybe George got him hard in the head yesterday." He mumbled, returning to his plate.

Hermione glanced back over to the Slytherins, where the normally cool ranks of students were looking at each other quite warily. The package that Draco had brought in remained untouched on the table, she noted. Looking at the other students, Hermione found them all to be shifting away from the package – bar one. The darker boy – 'Blaise, was it?' – was staring at the wrappings with a look akin to horror.

"_She's coming for us!" _The boy suddenly shrieked in a very non-Slytherin manner. Hermione's eyebrows shot up, and she noticed Snape's sudden movement at the head of the table. "_The muggles are coming for us! With their-their words! Led by Black, Merlin, save us all!" _And with that, a paranoid Blaise sprinted from the hall with as much composure as a Hufflepuff. Or less.

Hermione turned to watch Snape billow down between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, and as she passed, she could hear him cursing under his breath.

"…Just you wait… Lucius… No bloody wards in my dungeons…"

Hermione looked further up the Gryffindor table, she managed to glimpse a subtle high-five between the Weasley twins.

Rolling her eyes, she ignored the clueless looks of Harry and Ron, and returned to her reading.

"Ugh, boys."


End file.
